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#i so rarely ship tag but i mean. this is just about that
anulithots · 1 day
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NOORIE. I JUST WATCHED EP 3-5 OF LINK CLICK AND I BAWLED MY EYES OUT. I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS MUCH EMOTIONAL DAMAGE WHYYYYY
off topic but like scattered thoughts:
i don't know if you know this but what they're chanting during the game (龙阳之好 — meaning longyang's interest) is basically a phrase that refers to gay relationships. this has to be intentional. right. right. right. anyways if you'd like you can learn more about lord longyang in this brief wikipedia page
cheng xiaoshi's basketball flashback thing with lu guang is peak queer cinema. casually called him his partner and made a profound metaphor on trust on the spot. no one is doing it like him. icon
the captain's (i think his name was hong bin??) accent changes drastically when he's around his family — i don't live in china so i can't pinpoint which region it's from, but just think of it as the chinese equivalent of a country accent. skfjd just thought that was a cute detail
embarrassing but for like the tiniest moment but with the dramatic sunlight and the gentle music i fr thought that implied that hong bin was chen xiao's first love... my stupidity knows no bounds
when cheng xiaoshi is 'in the body' of another person in the past, how much of his emotions are his, and how much of them are the other person's? ...this calls for a character psychoanalysis
okay thank you for listening to my rant. sfjdskfjkfjsj going to scream into my pillow now
KDFJKLDSJF KSDJF
EPSIDOE THREEE THROUGH FIVE ARE SO EMOTIONALLY DEVESTATING, IF NTO THE MOST EMOTIONALLY DEVESTATING EPSIDOES IN ALL OF CINEMA (I'm weak for parents singing lullabies and providing comfort that ends tragically. I never stood a chance.) /pos
OKAY RESPONDING TO YOUR THOUGHTS! (sorry if this seems disjointed I'm going through an 'execuative dysfuntino floaty-float cloud rn... yes feeligns I know how to describe those.)
OHMIGOSH THE GAY CHANT. YES IT HAS TO BE INTENTIONAL. THey just get more queer the more you watch. Their shop literally has their ship name.
The manhua exists.
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If this isn't the most queer platonic/gay thing I've ever seen... I don't know what is.
OOOH and I have to tag @celestialsun123 and @mylee-sketches in this just for that point GAY BASKETBALL CHANT WOWOWOO
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This ep was also just like... very queer. SO queer. the most queer coded thing I've ever watched in my life (they wanted to convince us we were safe, that this would be a fun little gay time travel show.)
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Holy herbs. You know what? The censorship just made them more creative and this is more queer than if it were cannon (just shiguang in general actually... it gets even better as you go on)
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ANd the shorts as wellll... also Qiao Ling literally asks Lu Guang 'so what do you like about Cheng XIaoshi?' Like she's honestly the biggest shiguang shipper of us all.
The accent thing IS such a cute detail yess. The way that entire town was written with so much life and little things, each character having depth and intrigue from the get go... only for... episode five.. . and ... *ugly sobbing*
(Especially Chen Xiao's mom. I've honestly rarely seen parents written as well as they are in link click.)
PFT YES YES I ALSO THOUGHT HONG BIN AND CHENG XIAO were supposed to be queer coded in that scene. It's very vibes.
OHMIGOSH THE CHENG XIAOHSHI POSESSION THING CONSUMES SO MUCH OF MY THOUGHTS IT"S SO INTERESTING AS BOTH A NARRATIVE DEVICE AND PART OF HIS CHARACTER. I have a post here:
Theorizing on how Cheng Xiaoshi's emotions work when he's possessing people
with some theories behind it, and lots of notes and anlysis that are... in the works (I'm on my second rewatch of season one but I'm silly and keep rewatching the same scene six times before I watch the next... rinse repeat I've been rewatching for a half a month now.)
LIke the layers and layers and layers in this show are insanneeeee.
Also boba tea:
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and... screenshot collection (It's so hard to screenshot shows holy herbs. I wish the manhua adapatation of the first season - where it's all the same as the show - was available online)
(not goign to include any spoilers)
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....and I reached my image limit.
THANK YOU FOR TALKING WITH ME ABOUT LINK CLICK AKLDFSJKLDSJFKLDSJFDKLSFJDSLKFJDS.
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utilitycaster · 2 years
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(I extracted/adapted and slightly expanded this this from a somewhat more complicated question response bc it's my favorite thing I've written about Yasha as an individual and Beauyasha as a couple, and I wanted to post it separately and actually be able to tag it)
This is Yasha's story: after her initial meeting with the group, during which she keeps a distance and drifts in and out of the story for the first month, she is kidnapped. After having been kidnapped, she withdraws further, traumatized after the loss of Molly. She meets up again after a few weeks alone and quietly tells the clerics about the relatively recent loss of her wife. She continues to struggle against invisible chains several times before failing, and has an entire very literal corruption arc in which she constantly struggles against Obann; she finally is, with the help of the Mighty Nein, able to break it. With the help of her deity, she is able to move forward from her grief, and begin to see a life of her own - not as a killer, an orphan-maker - but as a protector. It's true she falls in love with Beau in the process, but that's just one part of her: an expression of her finally, for the first time in her life, being free and being able to get to know herself. In some ways, her story, though subtle, has more beats than Beau's, even though I think they parallel each other in many ways, which is why their relationship is so interesting.
Beau and Yasha begin flirting in the first episode, quite literally, and it's an organic interaction - they were not aware of each other prior to that first game. I think it's fair to say the ship was a bit slow after that, but I would attribute that almost entirely to the fact that Ashley was absent much of the time due to Blindspot; there are a few good conversations on watch together early on, some flirting in the bathhouse in Zadash, but it's true that there's not much time together...since Yasha's simply not there that often.
As soon as Yasha finally returns for good, and after the conversations in Kamordah, both of them are finally able to realize that the other is not just one more good thing that they will ultimately lose - but that they could have a future, and that they could be vulnerable again, despite all that has happened, with each other. We see this begin on Rumblecusp, and bloom during Eiselcross, but the groundwork was quietly laid throughout - and, to my point, the reason why their story is so good is because they were given the time to grow into fully realized, complex individuals and then come together into something greater than the sum of its parts.
It ends with them both finding belonging, with Beau taking her earned place as an expositor, finally respected for her talents in an organization that quietly defended her; and Yasha choosing to take the option to make a home with someone she loves and stop hurting people at the command of others. Yasha's comic makes this even clearer: she was raised to be a leader, in a harsh society where this meant incredible power but also immense sacrifice, and choosing a life of softness is a remarkable display of free will.
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devondespresso · 10 months
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just scrolled through vickie tag without any filters and oh god oh boy you never realize how nicely cultivated your dash is until you get to see all of it (tags vent post sorry)
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cryptid-crawly · 1 year
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man I get so excited when I find new bnha artists and then I go thru their Aizawa tags bc I love him but there is always the anticipation (negative) as I scroll down for when I inevitably hit a post that’s Aizawa x Mic
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o-winterqueen-o · 8 months
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another day another ao3 writer muted because they tag their side ships and divorced / unrequited ships in the relationship filters and I'm SICK OF IT
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random-blep · 1 year
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Idk
My kind of shipping is
I care very little and pretty much anything is possible
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ginnsbaker · 10 months
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Bulletproof
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Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist
Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Requested by anon:
could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."
Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.
--
“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 
Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.
“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”
Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”
You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.
“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”
Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.
Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”
Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.
“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.
Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”
Like you, he doesn’t need to say.
You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.
Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”
The room goes quiet. 
A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 
You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 
Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.
-
The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 
In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.
At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.
Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.
Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.
Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 
You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.
Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.
You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 
As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 
You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.
But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave.
-
It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:
Your healing ability.
On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.
Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.
As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.
Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.
But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.
“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 
Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.
You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 
You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.
The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.
You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.
Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”
“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”
Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.
Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.
Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”
“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”
Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.
That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.
The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.
You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 
And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.
It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.
“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.
Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”
The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.
“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”
Was that a compliment?
You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.
Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.
-
The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.
Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”
You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”
Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”
Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.
Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”
You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.
“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”
“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”
As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.
“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 
Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 
Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?
Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.
Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”
You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”
Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.
Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.
“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”
“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”
“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.
“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”
The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 
Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”
“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.
“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.
You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.
The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.
In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.
You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.
You've become more than just teammates.
You've become friends.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
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barleyo · 1 month
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Daddy's Girl.
Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!
Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV
Word count: 2.1k
As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 
It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 
Leon.
He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 
But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 
You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 
Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 
You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.
Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!
"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"
Fuck. Him.
Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"
You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 
"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.
Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."
You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.
"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."
"Oh."
Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.
"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 
"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.
"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"
"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"
He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.
"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 
He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.
His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.
Fuck him.
Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.
"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"
"Is not here." 
He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 
"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"
His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....
"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 
Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 
The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.
"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 
You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'
"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 
Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.
"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"
"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 
You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.
"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."
You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.
Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 
The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.
"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"
He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 
"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.
He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 
You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 
"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."
"Wha--?"
"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"
The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.
You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 
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"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.
"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.
He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"
"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 
Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 
He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 
He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.
Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.
"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."
"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."
Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"
"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"
"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.
"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.
Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 
Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.
You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.
"Leon."
"Hm?"
"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"
"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."
He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."
561 notes · View notes
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Quiet Confidence || One Night Stand!Gaz
Rating: E Words: 2.7K~ Pairing: ONS!Gaz x ONS!F!Reader CW: smut, cunnilungus, protected sex (implied), piv (implied), nudity. tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, one night stand, reader and kyle are both confident, kyle garrick is a munch, morning after talks. a/n: the gifs used do NOT reflect the reader's skin tone of physical appearance. / the original poster of the gifs below is @unstablecryptid but I could *not* get the gif search bar to fucking show me the gifs of elliot knight.
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In all the units he's been in, be it the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment, or when he joined the SAS, or when he was doing resistance to interrogation training with the Marines, or, now, in the 141, one thing's for certain: Gaz is the worst person to have as a wingman.
Not because he doesn't know what he's doing. No, Kyle absolutely knows what he's doing. The issue is precisely that. He's a handsome lad with a playful demeanor and natural charisma. He fails at getting his mates a girl because the girl ends up wanting him.
And so no one asks for his help any more... and he stopped offering too.
But that doesn't mean that he stopped trying to get girls for himself.
Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz sit around a table in the corner of the packed pub, chatting amidst themselves.
It's become somewhat of a routine, before they all ship back home: they get together at a bar or pub, huddle around a table and each of them pays for a round of drinks before they part ways.
It's, in a way, a moment to decompress, unwind, and clear their heads, while also allowing them to be amidst civilians for a moment and 'turn off' the soldier mentality before they go home to see family (or whatever Ghost does).
It's always the same routine. Ghost pays the first round. Stops at the bar while the lads locate a table (or at least a wall to lean on), then marches back with four pints balanced perfectly on stiff arms. He's clinical, methodical. In, out. Goes to the bar, comes back.
Soap gets the next one. Goes to the bar, swaggering past the other patrons, shooting coy looks and little smirks at the women (and men) that catch his eye. Leans against the bar and takes his sweet. fucking. time. Spends longer chatting up the other people waiting for drinks and even the bartender than actually ordering and waiting. Then, he swaggers back. Sometimes empty-handed, sometimes with a number/username or two on his phone.
Price gets the next one. Just like Simon, he doesn't meander. He goes up to the bar, places his order, pays, and leans on his forearms while he waits. If he sees a pretty woman, he might side up to her and exchange a couple words. It rarely goes anywhere. But he doesn't seem to do it for the same reason Johnny (and Kyle) do. Mostly just to pass the time.
Kyle doesn't even put in effort at this point. And he's not even bragging when he says that. More often than not, when he's at the pub with his team, he's not there to look for a bird to spend the night with, he's there to say farewell before they go on leave. And yet, there's something about Kyle that makes women flock to him.
He finds himself being approached as he leans on the bar, eyes fluttering around the room, taking in the bottle and glasses on display behind the bartender, the patrons, the TV showing a football game high on the wall... And without fail a pretty woman will side up to him and try to make a move, give him her number...
Kyle would blame it on the fact he has a 'pretty face' as one of his ex-girlfriends would say, or maybe his shower routine, the fact he actually makes an effort to look and smell good, because it makes him feel good... But as one of his one night stands in the past year made a point to point out to him, he, allegedly, exudes a 'quiet confidence' about him.
Regardless of the cause, Kyle always returns to the table with hands overflowing with drink/pint glasses and his phone holding a handful of new numbers or instagram/snapchat handles... ones he does not plan on contacting.
-
You're sitting across the pub from the 4 men in the corner booth. They're in regular clothes but, from the way they sit and act, you can tell they're soldiers from the base a few kilometers away.
Your eyes keep finding their way to the pretty, dark skinned bloke that sits on the edge, his left side turned toward you, his lips pursed as him and his friends discuss whatever it is that soldiers do when they come to a pub. Probably sports.
"You know if you keep staring at him like that, you'll probably burn a hole through him." Your friend quips beside you, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.
"And what do you suggest I do instead? Just walk up to that Adonis and go 'Hey, handsome, wanna get out of here?' in front of his mates?" You retort with a cocked brow.
"Yeah? You've done worse than that." She tells you. You go quiet again, your gaze returning to the handsome lad.
He sits with his back against the leather back of the booth, shifting his weight around on his ass and sliding down the seat a bit, legs spread apart, one foot kicked up and off the cover of the table, more so in the way, to potentially trip someone.
Your friend is right, of course, you've done worse than go up to a pretty man and ask him to go home with you. In fact, you've done much more nerve-wracking and anxiety-inducing things... But that bloke is easily one of the calmest and most confident ones you've seen in a while, not to mention he's not alone...
Pondering for a moment, you decide to just go for it. You finish the rest of your drink first and get up, walking over to his table, your mind already conjuring the perfect string of words to say in order to get him to come home with you. Hell, you don't normally have any trouble charming lads either.
You stop in front of the table and all four sets of eyes turn to look at him, one of them behind a balaclava, directly across from the man you want to speak to. You had nearly missed that one in the shadows of the pub.
Looking directly into the eyes of your target for the night, you feel the words you had kind of come up with escape you, as well as your last working neuron, and you find yourself feeling a bit flustered under his scrutinizing gaze.
He has the prettiest brown eyes you've ever seen, which stare up at you like a baby cow, eyebrows knit, wide and inviting and warm...
Taking a deep breath, you simply reach your hand forward, palm facing up and you wait, eyes locked on the beautiful man sitting on the booth before you.
His eyes flutter down to your hand and then back up at your face, an eyebrow scaling up in intrigue and confusion, but he lays his left hand atop yours, his warm, calloused palm against your own. No wedding ring. Good enough.
You nod at him and turn away again, pulling him along as you begin to step away from his table. The lad's head immediately shakes, looking around at you, and at his mates, in confusion, but he has no choice but to follow you.
He stands and shoots his friends a confused but amused look, smirking a bit at your mere audacity. You can hear one of them make some comment behind your back as you drag the pretty boy away, but you don't catch it between his thick accent and the music and chatter inside the pub.
-
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You made it from the bar to your elevator and to your door in near complete silence, no small talk other than to exchange names and ask about protection, no hesitation.
Getting lowered onto your bed, Kyle's lips were mashed against yours, his arms caging you in, his long, nimble fingers gripping onto the back of your head and nape.
Your legs spread to either side of his hip, your feet plant themselves on the bed, your knees squeezing lightly around his hip over the fabric of his black boxer briefs.
Kyle ruts his clothed bulge against your core, humming under his breath, the sounds he makes dying against your lips.
Your hands slide down from around the back of his neck over his pecs and down his abs, feeling how hard and defined he is. "Mmmm..." You purred as your nails gently slid down his dark skin.
"You like my muscles, hm?" He murmurs after breaking the kiss, diving in to kiss down your jaw and neck, then over your collarbone and onto the swell of your breasts in your bra.
"Maybe." You reply, which causes a rumble of a laugh to escape him, his hands pulling you up and off the mattress so he can undo the back clasp of the bra, before slipping the straps off your shoulders, and throwing the garment aside.
"Maybe, eh?" Kyle teases and leans up close, his large hands cupping the flesh of your breasts, squeezing them them together while his thumbs glide over your pert nipples, rubbing them in circles.
"Mmmm... Maybe." You agree with a chuckle of your own, a hum of appreciation falling through your lips from his touch, at the same time as you grind your clothed cunt against the bulge in his underwear.
The man above you smirks at you, letting you continue to grind yourself against him, while his head dips down to catch one of your nipples between his lips, giving it a slow lick and a greedy suck, his fingers still squeezing the flesh of your tits around them.
After a moment of giving them some attention, his mouth glides down your stomach and over the mound of your pelvis, toward your pussy, his body leaving the bed and kneeling on the floor in front of it, his face lining up between your thighs.
His fingers run over your slit, the man purring at the feeling of the soaked patch you wore into the fabric, before hooking a finger around the side of the gusset, pulling the fabric aside.
Kyle's face leans up close and he wastes no time attaching his plump lips to your wet cunny, his tongue seeking out and finding your clit after letting go of your underwear and spreading your folds with his fingers.
His nose buries itself on your mons and your legs twitch slightly as he gives your clit the attention it deserves, licking and sucking the sensitive bud, pulling it behind his teeth with greedy sucks, the obscenely wet sounds of his sucking filling the room and making you, somehow, whine more than the actual feeling itself.
"K-Kyle-" You whine as your hand finds his head, your legs trembling on either side of him, twitching against either side of his head and squeezing against his ears, like you're desperate to close them.
Kyle's big brown eyes look up at you with a spark of mischief and he grabs both your thighs with his large hands, forcing them open again and holding them against the mattress, leaving you splayed on the bed as his tongue laps furiously at your clitoris.
"I know... I know..." He coos at you as you whine and tremble, your hip bucking a bit as you both seek more of his pleasure and less of it, feeling your climax rearing its head over the horizon as Kyle sends you barreling toward it with just the feeling of his tongue.
Then, his fingers join in, two of them, carefully plunging inside your leaking hole, moving slowly and deeply, curling up to find your G-spot, his lips once more making the most obscene of sucking sounds as he eats you out like a man starved.
You whine and your head falls back, your body thrashing atop your bed covers as you climax, leaking your juices over his long digits and pushing his head away from you, your clitoris overstimulated and feeling raw.
You struggle to catch your breath, feeling hot and covered in sweat, the man kneeling at the foot of your bed looking at you with his pretty brown eyes and a smirk on his lips.
"Don't look at me like that!" You complain, feeling flushed, both from embarrassment and from the recent climax.
"Like what, sweet thing?" He asks you, raising his brows and lifting himself off the floor, crawling back atop you, and settling his hip between your parted legs.
"All cocky and smug-like." You retort, hearing him chuckle again.
"Not smug at all, poppet." He tells you in earnest before leaning down and kissing you slowly again. "Just happy I made you feel good. You used to blokes who don't make you cum, hm?" He asks you.
"No, they make me cum." You reply, and, truly, you're saying the truth. But this feels different either way.
"Good, then," Kyle adds and smirks, rolling your hip and legs to the side, his fingers hooking over the edge of the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your thighs. "'cause I plan on making you cum on my cock next."
-
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The next morning, you wake up past 11 a.m., bleary-eyed.
You rub your eyes, yawn and stretch along the bed, your arm hitting a warm and hard body beside you.
"Morning to you too, poppet." Kyle's voice murmurs from beside you, causing you to turn to look at him.
You lock eyes with his ass, first and foremost, your eyes widening for just a second.
Kyle's lying on his stomach, his elbows propping him halfway up on the pillow as he scrolls through his feed on some social media.
"Hi..." You murmur and chuckle softly. "You know, most lads would've left by now, hm?" You quip.
The man next to you hums and chuckles before shrugging. "Most lads aren't me." He says simply.
Looking toward you, you can't help but smile a bit at the sight of his warm eyes, shaking your head in amusement at his (over)confidence.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks you.
"Mhm... Like a baby." You nod and stretch your arms again. "What about you?" You return.
"Slept well, yeah..." He retorts. "Don't know why I asked, there's no way you could not, after the way I tired you out?" He teases and winks at you.
Scoffing, you roll your eyes. "Oh shut it..." You murmur, arching your back and stretching your spine out.
You're acting nonchalant about it, but the delicious soreness between your thighs and the sticky warmth of the sweat you shed last night speaks volumes. He's 100% right.
"I ordered you food," He says before rolling toward you and reaching over your body to the bedside table, retrieving a water bottle, still cold, meaning he went to get it from the fridge for you.
"Thanks." You murmur once he hands it to you. You open it and curl your head up to sip some water. "I've never had a bloke order me food the morning after." You quip.
"Well, I'm not an animal... I ate you out last night, only fair I feed you in return, hm?" He quips, causing you to scoff again and groan at the stupid comment.
Cheeky fucker, and the worst part is he knows how bad that was, and is still smirking down at you all smugly...
A notification from his phone makes him yelp softly and he rolls away, rising from the bed. "Food's downstairs." He announces.
Your eyes are drawn to the way he looks as he collects his clothes from the floor of your bedroom, tugging them on over his body, his cock, especially, hanging low against his thigh before he fixes it inside his underwear and tucks it all into his jeans.
The memory of how he pounded into you with reckless abandon last night, the tip of his cock hammering past your gummy walls at a neck-breaking pace, hearing you cry out in delight every time it kissed your cervix, comes flowing back.
Kyle notices you eyeing him up just as he's putting on his boots and glances at you with the same smug smirk he's shot you so many times in the last 12 hours together.
Stopping at the door of the bedroom while turning his shirt right side out, ready to put it on, he winks at you. "Don't worry, I'll give you a round two after we eat."
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Has anyone written this season from Tommy’s POV yet?? Because if so please tag me, but in the meantime I just had to outline the crazy sequence of events from his POV:
- Haven’t heard from the 118 in years and suddenly Howie is asking me to fly them into a hurricane
- But also we gotta wait for Hen but you’re gonna need to go get her so we can dramatically surprise her from inside the helicopter
- Can’t believe these losers were actually right and we just found an overturned cruise ship
- Start talking to Eddie in the aftermath and have so much in common, exchange numbers so we can hang out
- A day later Evan Buckley calls the station and asks if he can come by for a tour whenever I’ve got some free time and he seems cool too so why not
- My buddy in Vegas gets awesome tickets to the fight and convinces me to fly out and hey Eddie mentioned he’s into MMA right?
- Evan is super excited about everything but also doesn’t really seem like he’d actually want to switch stations so that’s odd - but hey flying is awesome and I can’t resist a little eye candy so I’ll offer to teach him
- Fight is awesome. Eddie is awesome. New friends are awesome and it’s rare that you have so much in common with someone so we are BFFs now
- Vibes at basketball were strange?? Apparently Evan doesn’t usually play but he shows up and gets really intense and I end up having to take Eddie to get his ankle patched up
- Painkiller!Eddie starts mumbling about how this is all his fault and he knows how Buck gets jealous and….oh now I feel bad
- Let me go to Evan’s place and clear the air - didn’t mean to cause all this drama I just wanted all the new friends
- I might be reading this wrong but Evan is flirting with me…? While also talking about Eddie way too much??
- Okay he is definitely flirting with me but also I am still not convinced he was jealous over me
- But also how can you not kiss a guy like that when he’s flirting with you and then rambling??
- Damn I really hope that was okay because I did not give him a lot of warning
- 😁😁 it was okay
- Gotta get out of here before I get distracted by kissing this man and miss my shift
- But can’t let Evan overthink it too much so make sure I secure a date before I go
- Oops almost forgot I came here to fix what I broke between him and Eddie - one last reminder and we’re good!
- Can’t wait for Saturday…
757 notes · View notes
marlenesluv · 7 months
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Denial is a Man’s Bestfriend. (MV)
summary: Y/n and Max have been friends since karting years, and now? Now, they’re teammates at Redbull. They are one of the best teammate duos in the Grid, but what happens when Max catches feelings?…Or when everyone but them notices they are in love but themselves?
pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: cussing, a little suggestive at the end?
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
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liked by: maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 512,011 others
y/n.user: disappointing day in japan. from a p3 quali to a race day dnf. we lost out this week, i’m sorry. i’ll do better in qatar 🇶🇦 see you then.
view comments…
f1updates: not a great race, but you’ll bounce back!! we love youuuu
maxverstappen1: the dnf wasn’t your fault. we’ll do better next week💙 you got this
↳ y/n.user: 💙💙
user2: soooo….we all seeing those hearts?
y/nfp8: don’t be too hard on yourself :( we <3 u
redbullracing: you got this next week!
racerbia: you’re gonna do amazing next week!! i cant wait to see you race. you’re amazing
↳ y/n.user: thanks bianca
f1fp33: omgggg y/n and bia?! she’s my fav f4 driver
↳ y/nsedits9: yessss, they are good friends :)
mv1wc6: i’m not breezing past the fact that max was so quick to comment like seconds after she posted…whipped
formula1pg: you got this‼️
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
twitter:
F1 News @f1news • 3hr ago
Redbull Racer, Y/n Y/l/n, was seen getting on her flight quickly after the Japan race last night where she dnfed.
The dnf was confusing at first, but it was not her fault. It seems that something went wrong with the car, which is rare for Redbull. They posted earlier on their story, “We are not sure what caused Y/n to dnf, but we are working with her car now to figure it out.” Not much, right?
Well, luckily she has her teammate and friend, Max Verstappen, to cheer her up in her comments. She was seen this morning, 1 hour before she posted her Instagram post about Japan, with Max. They were getting breakfast in Monaco….what do you think?
↳ Alyssa @lyssastalks • 3hr ago
Bro. Y/n did so good before the race. The car was fucked tbh. Its not her fault. As for her and Max? Shipppppp😋
↳ F1 Stat Page @stats4f1 • 2hr ago
I’m not sure if it was her or the car, but I lean towards the car. Her progress has been so good until last night. Unfortunately, that’s the game. If the car is fucked, so is the driver 🤷‍♂️
↳ Y/n and Max Pics @maxy/nship • 2hr ago
I ship them so hard, like pls pls pls. They are both so hot, funny, and the best drivers, imo. Power couple!!!!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your instagram story:
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seen by: maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 481,028 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
texts with max after media day, both of you in your hotels:
your pov:
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
max texting daniel after he texts you goodnight:
maxs pov:
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 567,139 others
y/n.user: so excited for the race tomorrow!! we start p1🥳 tune in to watch me beat max😋
view comments…
maxverstappen1: i wont let you win, but i would be okay with you winning
↳ landonorris: simp
↳ danielricciardo: such a simp
↳ charles_leclerc: hard core simping
user3: not the guys just calling max out LMAO
f1editpgs: you got thissssss!!! lfggggg
racerbia: you got it in the bag!
↳ y/n.user: tyy💓
redbullracing: 💙💙 woohoo!!
papayanews: not a redbull fan… BUT I AM A Y/N FAN🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😋😋😋😋😋🤭🤭🤭💙💙💙
lailahasanovic: you got this babes!! mick and i will be cheering you on from the mercedes garage
↳ mickschumacher: i mean, i’ll be cheering lewis and george on but i’ll cheer y/n on too!
↳ lailahasanovic: yes, you will. loudly
↳ y/n.user: thank you?….
f1feministslay: beat the men!!
user7: calling in sick to watch this because it’s gonna be so good
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 712,004 others
tagged: y/n.user
maxverstappen1: congratulations on the qatar win, y/n!! p1 on one of the hardest tracks, i’m so proud of you. it feels like just yesterday we were karting together and dreaming of our first wins, and here we are. we’ve made it
view comments…
maxfp1: PROPOSE ALREADY WTFFF SOBBING
y/n.user: i’m actually sobbing. thank you max😭❤️💙
↳ maxverstappen1: oh no
landonorris: check ur texts rn
user4: lando😭 guys the drama is dramaing
f1fp68: so cuteeee stopppp
wc20d: they’re gonna date, i’m calling it
y/nandmax1: FAVSSSSSSS
f1wags: our fav driver is gonna turn into a wag, guys
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
gc from max’s pov:
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 732,147 others
maxverstappen1: let’s play a game, teammates or dating?
view comments…
y/n.user: hmmmm🤔
redbull19: stoppppp this is too cute. i love them
user3: DONT EVEN. I LIVE
danielricciardo: FINALLY
↳ y/n.user: wdym “finally”?
↳ landonorris: max is a muppet and didn’t ask you out for agesssss
↳ maxverstappen1: im going to block you all, not y/n, but everyone else
↳ landonorris: 🖕
booktoks777: grumpy x sunshine fr
↳ anahuangsfanss: workplace romance !!
↳ reading4ever: forbidden romance?!
carmenmmundt: yesssss, i love you guys together 💓
↳ y/n.user: tyyy carm💓
user1: yupppp. adorable
charles_leclerc: so glad you two are together!😘
*liked by creator*
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 604,134 others
y/n.user: austin dump🖤
view comments…
user2: “austin dump” of max?
charlottesine: okkkk, love🔥
↳ y/n.user: love you
↳ charlottesine: i love you😘
f1wags: brooooo stoppp that’s too HOT
rbw88: my fav drivers are literally dating 😩🩷
user7: butterflies 🦋💗
maxverstappen1: 🖤❤️🖤
↳ y/n.user: ❤️🖤❤️
landonorris: hm. partial slay bc that second one is tmi
321lightsout: austin is my fav track now🇺🇸🦅
form1234edits: let’s talk about how fit they are wtfff🫠
francisca.cgomes: love you two together
↳ y/n.user: ty kika💓
user5: obsessed 🔥🔥🔥
edits4f1: can’t wait to edit them cuz they are the hottest couple fr
danielricciardo: YESSIR 🦅🇺🇸 the power of austin brought everyone these pictures (we didn’t need the middle one)
↳ y/n.user: ugh but we look so good
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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nicxl333 · 10 months
Text
JADE ABACUS— JING YUAN X READER
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what happens when you use the jade abacus for the wrong purpose? (contains spoilers from the 1.3 update)
tags: 18+ content, nsfw, reader is not the trailblazer, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (reader receiving), reader is described to have a vagina (afab), fluff, praise kink, breeding, unprotected sex
first hsr oneshot hope it’s good! (also it’s late so i haven’t proof read this very well)
word count: 2.3k
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“the same is true of this jade abacus- it is a record of the luofu cloud knights’ promise to the crew of the astral express. it is also a beacon- grip it tightly, and it will send a message to the jade abacus here in my hand. no matter how astronomically distant you are, the luofu cloud knights will always come to the aid of the crew, whatever your need may be.”
after saying your goodbyes to everyone on the xianzhou, you, welt, dan heng, march 7th and stelle/caelus made your way back onto the astral express, ready to warp to penacony the next day. after conversing with himeko and bickering with pom pom you said your goodnights and turned in for the evening.
truth be told you were slightly disheartened that you’d be leaving the xianzhou, having made so many new friends.
some, more friendly than others.
while there were many very good looking individuals residing on the luofu, one particular individual caught your eye; the high and mighty general himself.
it was something about him that drew you to him, like a moth to a single flame. maybe his smug confidence, his ability to control a crowd, or his handsome looks with his piercing eyes that could make your cunt gush within seconds. who knows, it was probably all those factors combined. either way, the attraction was there and steadily growing.
as you undressed to don yourself in your nightwear, you emptied your pockets to place your clothing in the laundry. your contents contained some trinkets here and there, and the jade abacus, which you were entrusted to hold for some unknown reason. you placed the jade abacus on your bed, meaning to look at it in greater detail once you were fully clothed.
once finished you lay in your bed, picking up your phone from the side table to scroll through any missed messages. puzzling enough, the most recent message at the top was from none other than general jing yuan.
wondering what he could possibly need (considering he rarely texted) you opened the message.
“good evening y/n, i hope this message finds you well. i realised i didn’t have the chance to bid you in particular a proper farewell, my deepest apologies. in good reparational faith i would like to make it up to you with a meal the next time you’re on the ship, on me.”
fuck knows how, but knowing that he specifically had you on his mind made you honoured, and strangely enough, horny. your mind flooded with thoughts that were downright filthy of what he could do to you should you have the chance to be alone.
he would probably take his time with you, pulling orgasm after orgasm just from his fingers alone, before he would even grace you with his cock. it only took a few different conjured up scenarios for you to have your hands snaking down to pull off your shorts, your fingers immediately stuffing your cunt full, stifling a moan at the ecstasy.
overtaken by the urge to cum you plunged your fingers in and out, scissoring and curling your fingers up against that spongey spot that made you see stars. your eyes rolled back, your back arched and your voice stayed stuck in your throat, chained by your slipping rationality which warred with your spiralling composure. you could feel the heat inside your core as your fingers continued their attack, creating a resounding ‘shwick! shwick!’ which bounced off the walls. your eyes were scrunched, your mind revelling in the scene of jing yuan pounding into your sopping cunt.
you were far gone, way too far gone to notice the quiet pads of feet along your carpet, moving towards the armchair in the corner of your room which faced your bed, and your quickly dishevelling figure. the figure sat on the armchair, sinking into the soft material as he witnessed your sinful performance.
you, none the wiser, continued to guide yourself towards your high, your moans becoming more and more harder to stifle as you completely succumbed to the lust, delirious with pleasure.
“f-fuck! jing yuan, please!” whispered pleas tumbled out of your mouth, wafting in the air till they reached his ears. he parted his legs slightly to ease his oncoming erection, letting his hand prop up his head, as his elbow rested on the arm of the armchair.
you neared your peak, your fingers burning in pain as you furiously pumped to reach your end. your free hand left your mouth and gripped your tit, playing with the peaked nipple to ease the overwhelming feeling you were experiencing.
with a final call of his name, (which was slightly louder than you would’ve liked) your body jolted and shook as you reached an earth shattering orgasm. you convulsed as you came which was probably the hardest you ever had cum before, letting the aftershocks subside.
you suddenly became aware of something poking at your back. you retracted your fingers from your cunt and retrieved the item, seeing the jade abacus in your hand, having accidentally moved underneath your body during your…activities. you then recalled the words jing yuan told your group about gripping the abacus tightly, hoping and praying your recent actions had not triggered a call- still unbeknownst to the figure who had already been summoned, to your dismay.
“that was quite the show, y/n-”
you stiffened at the deep, powerful voice of jing yuan, perched in your armchair, staring at you with something distinguishable as lust.
“-however, i do recall warning that the abacus shouldn’t be used for inappropriate circumstances, no matter how amusing that circumstance may be.”
you were stunned into silence, riddled with shame and hushed with guilt. there was simply no rational explanation for this as you were half naked in front of him. and you had no knowledge of exactly what point he entered your room, therefore meaning you had no idea just how long he’d been watching, although evident that he had been in the room long enough to make himself comfortable on that damned armchair.
“cat got your tongue? seems like i’ll have to administer your punishment first.”
by this point he had risen, beginning to take off his boots and the numerous straps and harnesses that made up his uniform. he then took off his tight shirt, leaving him in his red pants, while crossing the short distance to your bed, raising your hand which was wet with arousal, lifting it to his mouth and giving your index and ring finger a long lick.
“i… uh-”
“hush. naughty minxes like you do not deserve to speak. lay back and spread your legs. i will not ask twice.”
although confused and befuddled you followed his command, not expecting events to turn out like this, not that you were complaining. he lowered his face so he was level with your dripping cunt, observing it as your cum dripped out.
you lifted your head slightly to see why he stalled, feeling a tad bit self conscious. all thoughts flew out of your head however once you felt him lick a long stripe from your cunt to your clit. you instantly mewled at the sensation, hands finding purchase in jing yuan’s hair, gripping lightly, to which he grunted at.
he rose to look at you, amber eyes boring into your own. “if you’re too loud, i’ll stop. we wouldn’t want to wake up your fellow crew now, would you?”
you shook your head vigorously, wanting anything but him to stop in this moment, knowing that this could potentially lead to you getting the fuck of your life. fat chance in hell you would cockblock yourself.
he hummed at your silence, lowering himself back down and resuming again. his tongue swirled around your clit, paying close attention to the bud. he then moved down to your pulsing hole, plunging his tongue in and out and slurping at the soaked flesh. one hand left his head and rose to your mouth to stifle any noises from leaving it. as if it weren’t enough, jing yuan let his mouth leave your cunt, his fingers immediately integrating into the mix, while his mouth moved back up to your clit, this time sucking on it. your eyes rolled back, hips grinding against his tongue to gain more of the sensation.
his fingers were thick and long, reaching further into your core than your own smaller fingers could ever hope to reach. as his assault on your slobbering cunt continued you started clenching down harder on him, signalling that you were about to cum again for the second time that night. your hips ground in circles, the heat inside you blazing hotter with each push of his fingers, the coil tightening until it could resist no longer, and snapped.
your body convulsed once more, even more so once you registered that jing yuan wasn’t letting up on his ministrations, and pulling you into a state of overstimulation.
“shit! jing yuan- oh my god!”
he groaned at the sound of your moans calling for him, using the bed sheets below him to grind against for some semblance of relief for his now raging hard-on.
once he had enough he rose once more, raising his soaked hand to your mouth.
“suck.”
you obliged, wrapping your tongue around his digits, sucking slowly while looking directly into his eyes, unaware of just how much you were affecting him.
“god you’re so sinful.” he groaned, moving his hands to his pants to unbutton them, hastily slipping them off, along with his boxers, leaving him bare, sporting a very large prominent erection. the mushroom tip was flushed with an angry pink, pre cum dripping at the tip. his length had two large main veins running down it before branching off into little tributary like veins.
you but your lip at the sheer size, hoping you could take him all. even with all the prep you had it still looked like a tight fit. he was insanely girthy with an impressive length to match.
this led to a quiet chuckle from jing yuan.
“don’t look so apprehensive, i’ll go slow.”
smug bastard.
he lifted your legs, bringing them down, down, down towards your shoulders. a mating press. your breath hitched at the realisation, knowing that he was about to fuck up your insides.
“take a deep breath, kitten.”
you took a slow inhale, feeling the tip breach your opening, pushing past and spreading your walls to all opposite ends. the stinging sensation was immediate, his dick stuffing you to the brim, more than his fingers managed to. you instantly gripped his shoulders, lifting your head to bite into his left, thus stifling a pain wrenching moan. many sensations flowed through your body, specifically pain at having never taken a size quite like jing yuan’s before. tears pricked the corners of your eyes before trailing down and staining your cheeks.
he hushed you, wiping the tears away before stroking the hair away from your face, looking at you with adoration and care, forgetting all about the ‘punishment’ he was supposed to give in that moment.
“are you okay? do you need me to pull out?”
you shook your head, lacing your fingers in his hair, and smiling softly.
“no, just give me a moment.”
he nodded, massaging your hips to help you get used to the feeling.
“you feel so good, you’re doing so well for me my treasure. i’ll take care of you soon.”
after a few minutes of adjustment, the pain faded and replaced itself with yearning and pleasure. you started grinding your hips against his, making him see the picture. he pulled out slowly till around halfway, then gently pushed back in.
you let out a small gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and whining, edging him to go faster.
he obliged, picking up the pace gradually until the room was filled with soft sounds of repeated ‘paps’. your lips connected with his, tongues dancing in a sloppy rhythm, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth, doing little to muffle the moans and groans entangling in your mouths.
even at such a close proximity you felt incredibly needy, needing him closer and closer to you.
noticing you lose yourself, jing yuan laced his hand in yours, against the bedsheets.
“i’m right here, my love.”
truth be told even jing yuan was struggling to keep himself composed too. your fiery nature around protecting the ones you cared for gave him a sense of familiarity with his duties as general, forever protecting the people of the xianzhou luofu. not only that though, your sense of humour and your witty remarks really captivated him during the times you had together. in his hundreds of years of living, no one caught his attention quite like you did. especially with the way you got along so nicely with yanqing. considering the fact he was practically considered as his son, seeing the two of you bond warmed his heart in ways indecipherable. so, realising that you would be leaving to travel onwards really left a gape in his life that you had just started to piece together.
he gripped your hand tighter, moving with more vigour and urgency, wanting to hold you in his arms forever.
“j-jing yuan-”
“my love?”
“i’m gonna cum-!”
“so do it, cover me with your essence, i’ve got you, always.”
his words carried you to the end and you came all over him, legs tightening against his sides, trapping him inside your cunt. his hips instantly stuttered, losing rhythm and his groans became impossibly deeper, until he eventually spilled his cum all into you, complete with each other.
all was silent for a moment, as both parties recovered from the overwhelming orgasms. jing yuan pulled out and rolled off of you, pulling you into his chest and closing his eyes.
“y/n. stay with me. just for tonight.”
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hihimissamericanbi · 4 months
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FAVE HP SMUT CREATORS
Ever since I got that lovely anon asking for the best smut I've ever read, it got me thinking about some of my favorite smut creators in general.
So here is a very non-exhaustive list of fan-fucking-tastic smut writers and artists I've come across in the HP fandom that weren't mentioned (shamefully) in my last batch. Feel free to add to the list! We must keep the people fed.
xoxo go take a sip of cold water girl
WRITERS
@spookymoonie
Lord Espooky came into this fandom guns a-blazing with their kink headcanon a day for Wolfstar and it has spiraled from there. They GET IT. He has a super well-organized masterlist pinned to his tumblr ft tons of different kinks, fic lengths, scenes, etc. Go. Now.
@fiveht
The definition of IYKYK. Daddy kink isn't super my thing, but Five makes me enjoy it. If you vibe with age gap daddy Remus and pretty boy Sirius, their Adore series is a must-read. They also have a stellar A/B/O Wolfstar fic plus podfic and write some Marvel too!
@greenvlvetcouch
An absolute legend in this fandom. Wolfstar, Jeggy, Rosekiller. Gritty, chewy, embodied sex.
@emeryhall
Emery writes sex the way some people breathe. Like it's just part of the narrative. It's SO punchy. And also she is the queen of Crack Smut.
@kaaaaaaarf
Patron saint of Wolfstar hatefucks. mic drop.
@cancerravenclaw
We snagged MK over to Wolfstar from the clutches of Dramione. Her series "mk's kink exposé" could also be called "celine's kink exposé." I'll just leave that there.
@wolfpants
Everything they create is magic, but they are especially known for rare pairs and Dronarry.
WRITERS AND ARTISTS
@aspiring-artist-em
The queen of Lesbian Wolfstar. Both art and fic. Also queen of humiliation and pain kink and Walburga psychological trauma. ye be warned.
@upthehillnsfw / @upthehillart
I am afraid no one is ready for this art. Truly. Tons of different ships, positions, acts. I gasp every time. And their Pansmione fic is epic (which I have talked about before).
ARTISTS
@industrations
I highly recommend getting on Indi's Patreon so you can enjoy their NSFW drawings, mostly Wolfstar and Jegulus, occasional Rosekiller. Too many iconic moments to count.
@waxingrunes
The officially-sponsored artist of Five's Adore series. Look, their work is nothing short of indulgent. Shhhh don't worry about the physics just let it happen. And by It I mean Remus' big dick hands.
@basiatlu
By beloved. The one. The only. Bosh's drawings are so ALIVE. They leap off the screen. Her Drarry is nothing less than iconic. She also dabbles in other characters/ships like Wolfstar and Blackcest. Siriusly, you can't go wrong.
DRARRY SMUT
OKAY, Drarry people. There are so so many excellent Drarry smut writers it is impossible to name them all. Here are but a tiny handful I have pulled from my bookmarks. I'm happy to rec specific fics if asked :)
@cavendishbutterfly, @bixgirl1, @l0vegl0wsinthedark, @shiftylinguini, @kbrick, @fluxweeed, @academicdisasterfic
MORE
I'm tagging those other creators from older asks because I can't put this list out there without them on it <3
@crushofdoves @we-are-swearwolves @tenthousandyearsx @theresthesnitch @lqtraintracks Quietlemonhush @cuddlebugsirius
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eyelessfaces · 16 days
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I don't love you like I did yesterday
poe dameron x reader
summary: it’s not because he, poe dameron, gives you more attention and affection than your own boyfriend ever will that you are in love with him — loosely inspired by this post.
warnings: angst, complicated relationships, love triangle?, mentions of marriage, break up, refusing a proposal, internal conflict, doubting your relationship, emotional infidelity? if that's a thing, alcohol consumption. reader wears a dress at some point
tags: f!reader, I don't wanna spoil too much and don't read this if you don't want to be but; mutual pining, love confessions, he fell first AND harder, fluff and,, more
word count: 5.6k
yes. mcr lyrics as a title. in 2024. I know. but don't look at me the lyrics strangely fit so,,
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
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You don’t love him; you are almost sure of that. 
It’s not because you laugh at every single one of his stupid, lame jokes made just for you to laugh and because you blush everytime you catch him staring at you from across the room that you love him. 
It’s not because he, Poe Dameron, gives you more attention and affection than your own boyfriend ever will that you are in love with him.
It’s not because your boyfriend blames you for being too close to him that you are.
It’s not because you wish it would have been Poe down on one knee proposing to you that it is the reason you told Kass you’re not ready for this yet.
And it’s not because you question your situation every single night that it means you have to change anything about it. You should be happy with Kass. You are.
Yet, you wish you were certain of all of that.
It has been two days already, and the guilt keeps eating away at you, like a bacteria gnawing at your feelings, particularly starving for the reasonable part of you that knows you said no for your own well being. 
Kass makes it worse; the dark glances thrown at you whenever you bump into each other during the day and his lame excuses to ditch you whenever you want to talk to him make you feel like a monster, and though you know that it is exactly the way he wants you to feel, you can’t help it.
The situation is hard to swallow and bury deep in the back of your mind when you’re out on missions, and though you rarely ever get distracted because you know how important attention and concentration is in your job, the whirlwind of thoughts has been floating over the surface, and your focus has been off, you know it. And you’re not the only one who knows it.
Your head turns when you feel a light nudge at your arm, having dismissed Poe’s presence in your peripheral vision due to your distraction. His eyebrows raise when you look at him, and he gazes at you like the mist of your thoughts is still present over your face and he wants to shake you awake.
“You alright?” he asks before you look back at your squadron wrapping the mission equipment, setting it back in the ships.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, burying your hands in your pockets. You should feel alright. The mission went well despite your clear lack of attention, and you’ve given your life to the Resistance at this point, so you should be thankful that you succeed in most things you do in its name, right now even, considering the situation.
Poe looks down on the floor, kicking away a small rock there that dribbles down the hill. “You've always been an awful liar” he mutters under his breath, not buying it. 
“Right” you scoff, your head dropping to shake it. He looks back up at you and you can feel his insistent gaze upon you, which eventually makes you break. “I don’t wanna bother you with my stupid problems” 
He snorts, “Come on, you know I’m always here to listen to your stupid problems” he says playfully, nudging your arm with his elbow again. “That are often not that stupid actually” he adds. 
There’s a silence settling between the both of you, and right before Poe aborts and figures you don’t wanna talk about it, you sigh. “Kass proposed.”
“Oh” the sound slips from his mouth, and accurately represents his surprise, his voice dropping a bit from the shock. He doesn’t know what to say, not really. This situation would have been on the list of things he would have never expected or even considered to happen. 
This eventuality had never, ever occurred to him somehow, not yet, and now, all at once, the fear creeps in and becomes real; he is going to have to watch you get married, going to have to sit there amongst guests, he’s going to have to watch you be happy with someone else than him.
But he wants you to be happy, with or without him, so he will watch. It isn’t like he has the choice, anyways.
He lightly clears his throat, trying to dismiss the tight knot starting to form there, and smiles. The worst thing about it is the fact that it is genuine, he is truly happy for you. You deserve this.
Maybe Kass doesn’t, though. He doesn't deserve you. You’re too good for a half assed mechanic like him that, from a professional point of view, fucks up too often to still be there; but from what Poe hears around, it tends to be the same on other levels than just the professional one.
“Well, that’s great! Congrats,” his half cheerful voice wavers a little, but you don’t seem to notice as your lips form a polite smile that slightly turns perplexed, uncomfortable. “What’s wrong about that” he asks now, concerned when he sees your frown. 
Your teeth graze your bottom lip. “I said no.”
“Oh” he watches as you raise your eyebrows, nodding. “I’m sorry” he adds. “I mean–”
“Yeah” you exhale.
“Why?”
That is the real question. Why? Why wouldn’t you want to marry your boyfriend you are supposed to be in love with? Why did you feel so awful at the feeling of his hand over yours when he shot the question?
“I don’t–” you start, thoughts running around your head. You’re not really sure about what you want to say, you’re not even precisely sure why you said no. There were so many reasons, but you couldn’t pick the exact one. “I think I’m not ready.”
Poe doesn't say anything. You stay there upon the small hill you watch your respective teams from. They’re almost done putting everything back.
You think you want to cry. You’re not really sure why. You think you want to dig a hole in that hill and stay hidden there for the rest of time.
“Poe, I don't think I wanna spend the rest of my life with him.” you mutter, looking ahead as if your confession would make you feel less guilty if you didn’t look your friend in the eye. “Is that wrong?” you ask as you turn to him. 
“Yeah, well I don’t blame you” he scoffs, and you do too, knowing how Poe feels about Kass. 
You should have known, it should have been a sign. Poe is kind, compassionate, and when he doesn’t like someone, it is because he has reasons to.
“That’s not wrong.” he continues, his tone serious now. “It would have been wrong if you said yes even though you knew damn well you didn’t want to marry him” he nods. “It's not the end of the galaxy if you said no. He'll get over it”
“Yeah” you sigh. “He keeps acting like it's my fault”
“Really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in astoundment. He shouldn’t be surprised.
“Yeah. He avoids me and sends me death glares like I murdered his family or something” you snort, realizing the stupidity of it all now that you say it out loud. Kass has always been somehow childish, but this exceeds everything you could expect from him.
“Wow okay” Poe shakes his head, a small exhale of desperation escaping his mouth before he speaks again. “Well, you know how I feel about him, sweetheart.”
“I know” you confirm, sending him a weak smile. He answers you with a pinched one, and as your squad finishes their tasks and starts to gather together, Poe reaches out and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before turning to join them.
He turns back to you quickly, “You know what? My squadron is having drinks on Coruscant tonight to have some fun before we leave for the week. You should join us” 
You nod and watch him go, and feel the need to take one fat fucking breath before eventually joining everyone else.
Even though it is almost dry by now, the stain over your dress is still ridiculously visible. If the girl that had spilled it over you earlier hadn’t profusely apologized for it you would have most likely have had a go at her because of the awful mental state you were in – you were yourself surprised to notice how blatantly dismissive and weary you had been of that incident – it had been nothing compared to the past few days you just had. 
Poe looks over at you, your gaze planted onto your glass of Black Hole as your fingers absentmindedly drum against the table; your choice of drink says it all, and though you might want to get properly drunk, Poe is strictly against it if it means you plan on moping all night long. He finishes his drink, planting a hand over your shoulder as he leans closer to you.
“Wanna go dance now?” Poe shouts in your ear, trying to overlap the loud music blasting. You scoff and shake your head, “I’m not really in the mood”
“That's exactly why we need to,” he affirms with his usual charismatic grin as he takes a hold of your hand and pulls you to the middle of the room anyway. “Come on!” you give in when you realize he’s not really asking, dragging you through the crowd. “You know I'm leaving tomorrow morning, you owe me a dance”
“Okay” you laugh as you put your hands over his shoulders, his coming to rest at either side of your waist. 
You move stiffly at first, your eyes rolling playfully when Poe gives way more energy into it than you do, and despite yourself, you start to smile, and make an effort to match his energy.
Poe spins you around, his movements confident as he tries to cheer you up. "Just follow my lead, okay?" he says, his voice warm and encouraging. He twirls you under his arm smoothly, and you can’t help but laugh as he dips you dramatically, catching you with ease; he’s intimidatingly close to your face before he leans to your ear. “See? I’m not an awful dancer”
“Is there even something you’re not good at at this point,” you rhetorically ask as you both stand straight again, the movement making your head spin a little because of the alcohol. 
“Following orders, probably” he jokes, still swaying with you. You laugh and let your forehead rest over his shoulder, your eyes shutting as you take a deep breath; it might have been the only moment in those past few days where you genuinely let go of all your worries.
“Hey, we should go outside, it’s hot in here. And loud” Poe proposes as you both still sway, his hand gently cradling your back.
“Sure” you nod with a smile. “Wait– I’ll join you there, I’m gonna get us drinks”
There’s a grin plastered over his face and a glint in his eyes as he glances at you when you join him outside, your drinks in hands. The cool night air is a welcome change from the overwhelming warmth inside the cantina.
“What?” you scoff, looking down at yourself, trying to figure out the reason behind his amused expression.
“Nothing” he shrugs off, taking his drink from you, but not before you catch the way his eyes linger on you.
“It’s the stain, isn’t it” you whine and sigh as you pull at the fabric of your dress to observe it. “Didn’t realize it looked that stupid”
He giggles as his mouth is still full of his drink. “It’s stylish” he admits with a cheeky grin.
You scoff and roll your eyes, your giggle fading as you both take a sip of your drinks, the silence between you comfortable as the muffled hum of the cantina’s activity buzzes just behind you. Then, out of nowhere, just as you’re about to talk again, Poe breathes out your name, his expression changing, becoming more serious as you glance at him expectantly.
“I’m in love with you.” he blurts out, like words are falling out of his mouth from being held there for too long. 
You huff out a laugh. “No,” you laugh, the taste of your drink still warm in your throat. You frown a bit when you notice he doesn't waver, doesn't flinch, doesn't drop his expression to admit this is some kind of joke now that he knows it's not working on you. 
“Yes I am” he declares, as serious as he is when he needs to be in his job.
You chuckle, still not fully believing what he's saying. “Are you drunk Poe?” 
“Wha– no– no I’m not” he frowns, his eyebrows knitting together in earnest. “I mean it. I'm in love with you.” he affirms, his eyes searching yours with a seriousness that makes your heart skip a beat.
You pause, taken aback by the tone of his voice – he's sincere, he's not playing around. “You can’t.”
“I know.” he declares with a nod, his gaze never leaving yours. “I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore” he admits as his expression softens. “I don’t want this to ruin our relationship” he says, his voice calmer now. “And I know you can’t feel the same” he nods, “And that’s okay.” 
You pinch your lips together. You're not sure what to say. You nod eventually, acknowledging it all, processing his declaration. “Well” you say finally, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I, uh, I’ll go get another drink.”
Your glass is still mostly full.
Poe nods, swallowing with difficulty as he watches you turn and head back inside.
The sounds of laughter as you enter the cantina again make you sick to your stomach.
This went awful. He didn’t expect any less. He didn’t expect anything in the first place; his impulsiveness finally got the best of him.
Having to swallow it down and play it like it didn’t happen felt more humbling than every time he has had to admit he made a mistake. Jessika’s story about the maintenance issues with her X-wing is slowly starting to blur, and Poe isn’t even sure she’s still on that topic of that – at this point – one sided discussion, as he can’t help but glance over at you, talking to Karé until he eventually realizes you aren’t there with him anymore. 
“Poe!” Jessika scolds him, making him turn back to her. She sighs, “You’re not even listening”
“Sorry” he apologizes, looking around the room to figure out if you’re still there. “I gotta go, keep that story for later” he nods, patting her shoulder before turning away.
“I just finished telling it,” she huffs out in disbelief, Poe’s repeated apology fading with the music as he disappears through the crowd.
You’re not in the cantina, not anymore. Karé tells him you went out for fresh air, and he finds you on the flight of stairs on the side of the building, hidden from everyone.
"I was looking for you," he halts– you're crying; you're there, sitting on the stairs, looking up from where you were hiding your face in your hands crying. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice wavering with surprise; he thought you were having a good night despite everything, having fun with Karé, he thought he had been able to make you forget about your problems for a moment. But no, and he obviously knows what’s wrong, because he managed to fuck it all up by confessing his feelings for you without thinking about it twice.
You pinch your lips, trying to repress new tears as you wipe away the ones rolling down your face. "Nothing," you mumble, shaking your head. "It's alright."
Poe sighs softly, walking up to you and sitting down with you. 
He softly nudges your shoulder with his own, “You're rocking that stain,” he says, a small grin over his face. “For what it’s worth, you could even rock a First Order suit, so,” he smiles as he watches you laugh between sniffles. “You don't have to worry about that.”
He sighs, and his tone grows more serious. "I'm sorry I said everything I said. I shouldn't have burdened you with my feelings" he admits. His voice is filled with regret. He should have kept that for himself, for now anyway. “I was caught up in the moment and I didn’t realize it would hurt you more. It was stupid. It was unfair to you." his voice weakens. He looks back at your face. You blink your tears away silently. “I do realize it was possibly the worst moment I could choose to tell you this” 
Poe gently wipes your tears away, before they can reach the bottom of your face.
“I don’t expect anything back from you, you don’t have to worry about that. This doesn’t have to change anything about us”
He kisses your cheek before leaving.
If you had to point out positive points about your indirect fight with Kass following his proposal, the fact that you weren’t living with him would be one of them.
The silence in your quarters alone was surely more bearable than the silence that would fill the space if he were there with you, you were sure of that.
And even if it’s been three days already since you rejected his proposal, you have barely talked to him despite going out of your way to try to; he has been hurt by your rejection, and he is keen on making you understand.
You can’t help but wonder if you would have been happier if you had said yes; maybe it would have been easier and maybe you wouldn’t feel so bad even though you still wouldn’t want to marry him, even if it is exactly the way Kass wants you to feel. Maybe saying yes would have been the right decision, after all, and maybe you would be set about your feelings for good with the prospect that you would allegedly spend the rest of your life with him.
Then there's Poe, his words. 
Poe and his words that keep rolling around your head over and over again no matter what you’re doing and no matter what time of the day it is; those about the confession of his love towards you, and those that assured you that Kass would get over your rejection, that it’s not the end of everything, not the end of your relationship with him even if right now, it seems like a deadlock. 
And almost as if it was staged, Kass steps through your door.
“Hey,” he speaks, hands in his pockets. You repeat the same thing quietly, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything, apologize maybe. He looks around your place before chuckling, pointing and walking over to the table. “It’s just– I forgot my gloves last time I came here and I need them”
“Oh, so that’s it.” you snort darkly, following him close. 
“Yeah, that’s it.” he mutters nonchalantly as he picks up the pair. “What do you even mean” he frowns as he turns back at you, shoving his gloves in his jacket pocket. 
“I mean you've been avoiding me all week and you think it's okay to casually come here just to pick up your stupid pair of gloves?”
“Well, they’re still mine, so” he shrugs. “And again, what do you want me to do” 
You frown. “I don’t know, maybe apologize for your attitude for these past few days first. You’ve been childish”
“I’m childish? You’re the one who’s not ready for marriage.”
You chuckle in disbelief, “Yeah well, I’m sorry for not wanting assured long term with someone that behaves the way you do.” you say, looking at him in the eyes though you would rather be looking everywhere but here at the moment. 
“You know,” you start, readjusting your position onto your feet. “I’ve been wondering, asking myself all of those questions, what was wrong with me for rejecting you.” he looks at you, hand still stuck in his pocket, waiting for you to make your point.
“And that’s what you wanted, right? But the one thing I really asked myself was ‘Why did he even propose’, because you don’t even care that much about me, so I don’t understand” you shake your head. “You shouldn’t have asked the question if you weren’t ready for the other answer”
He sighs, eyebrows raising slightly as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have asked at all, you’re right.” he scoffs. “I realized that, and I should have realized when we started to drift away” you frown softly, waiting for him to continue. You’re not sure what he truly means beyond that. “I asked you to marry me to be sure”
“Sure of what”
He chuckles and huffs out your name like what he means to say is evident; “You’re in love with Poe” his eyes soften, his expression relaxing as yours hardens. “Don’t try to tell me otherwise or I’ll go crazy” he laughs nervously.
“Look, I get it. He looks pretty damn close to perfect. But you should have done something about it. I shouldn’t have been the one to realize it.” he says. You sigh softly, taken aback. “This is why I’ve been avoiding you. To try to come to terms with it. Accept it.” 
Knowing this is the reason Kass proposed somehow makes it simultaneously better and worse. But he’s right; he’s fucking right, you’re in love with Poe and that is exactly why you were crying on those stairs the night before Poe left for his mission, maybe it is time to face it for good and to stop trying to convince yourself that you’re just confused because of everything that has been happening in your relationship lately.
“I’m sorry” your voice is poisoned by guilt. If it feels awful for you, it must be even worse for him. He scratches his forehead awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to you. “I tried to deny it to keep it fair for you. But I think you’re right.” admitting it to him, the man you’re supposed to be with and have feelings for feels even worse than having to realize it yourself. “I’m sorry Kass.”
Kass pinches his lips in a defeated smile, “I can’t hold you back.” he huffs out in evidence. “He is too” he adds after a pause. “In love with you, I mean. It’s so blatantly obvious” 
You scoff, shaking your head. “I know” 
“So you can work this out” he declares with a weak smile. “I won’t be an asshole about it” he mumbles. “I should be angry but I’ve tried to accept it for a while.”
You nod, somehow grateful he is so understanding, feeling sorry that it’s been so transparent for him for so long. Not everyone would let it play like this. "Thank you, Kass."
He nods in return before sighing deeply, the weight of the past few days lifting slightly from his shoulders. “I wish you well. I mean it”
You nod again, tears welling up in your eyes. “You too.”
Your heart tightens when his look lingers over you before he turns away and exits your quarters; both relief and guilt weigh over you, and the silence that fills your room now feels much different than before.
You don’t love him; you are sure of that. It feels wrong and even though you still feel some sort of affection towards him, you’re not sure you can be friends anymore given how you left things off.
On the other side, when Poe hops off his X-Wing ladder after a week of being away, you don't know how to act around him anymore. You don’t know if you should go ahead and tell him everything you’ve ever wanted to tell him or if you should just pick the opposite option and avoid him as much as possible to try to ease your conscience a little. 
And you do. You busy yourself with work as much as possible, avoiding running into him as much as possible, but eventually, he doesn’t really give you a choice. 
“Are we okay? You didn’t even welcome me back. It’s been four days” it hasn’t even been twenty seconds since the meeting ended; the meeting you spent all your time trying to focus on instead of him. 
His stupid flight suit is opened in a way that reveals his gray tank top and lets the chain around his neck slightly peek, and suddenly nothing about the First Order supply depot infiltration matters anymore. 
“We are. I was busy” you affirm – you’re technically not lying. Though you were keeping yourself busy on purpose.
“I bet you were”
You frown. “Hey what do you m–”
“Kass talked to me.” he dodges. 
“Oh” your voice drops, the idea of that scene so unnatural. “What did he say”
He shrugs slightly. “I think you know” 
That’s a good thing they talked, somehow, no matter how much the idea terrifies you. It lifts a weight off your shoulders to know you won’t have to explain to Poe how you left things off with Kass, because you would almost rather get interrogated by the First Order than have to think about it again. “He was pretty mature about it, I’ll give him credit for that.” Poe affirms with a grin, causing you to huff out a laugh. “He also said he's resigning from the Resistance. ‘Says it has nothing to do with you, he's been thinking about it for a while” he nods with a pinch of his lips.
“Oh, okay” your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Well, ships will suddenly do better magically” 
He snorts. “I’m just glad I never let him take care of mine. I think Jess was complaining about that the other day” you laugh, and he smiles at you endearingly as he watches you. “So, are we okay?” he asks more seriously, though a faint smile lingers over his face.
“Yeah, yeah, we are.” you nod, weakly smiling back at him. “It’s just been a rough couple of weeks” you admit as he gives you an empathetic smile in response.
“I know what I want but I don’t know if I’m ready,” you eventually declare cautiously, not wanting to hurt him or make him feel like you're trying to push him away. “It has all gone so fast and I think I want things to slow down a bit.” he nods understandingly before being obliged to turn when someone in the briefing room calls his name; he holds his hand up to have them wait and rests that same hand over your shoulder when he turns back to you, his gaze holding yours.
“Look– I don’t want you to jump right into this if you’re not a hundred percent sure about it.”  he declares with as much conviction he has when he fights for what’s right.
“This is my thing– to jump head first into everything. That's why I acted the way I did the other night. And it was stupid considering the situation and some part of you probably hates me for it somehow so you have to be smarter about this” he insists. “And I know you will be. And even if it’s in one week or one year or five, I can handle it”
“Okay,” you mutter feebly, his firm gaze over you making your stomach flutter.
He turns back and glances at the person who was calling for him earlier, turning back to you. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say more but is unsure if he should.
“Alright. I got stuff to take care of” he eventually says with a faint sigh, like being teared out of that conversation with you physically hurts him.
“Okay Commander” you grin teasingly. He smiles and kisses the top of your head, your hand instinctively resting over his arm despite your decision to maintain some distance for the moment. 
"You know where to find me if you need anything," he says quietly, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment longer before he steps away.
You’re still not sure what you really want as you watch him walk away, sending easy smiles to his peers as he reviews details with them for the next mission. 
You think about it all over again, as you remain here in the back of the room, leaning against the wall; the way he looked at you, the understanding in his eyes, his patience and willingness to wait – it all seems so easy with him that jumping right in suddenly doesn’t make you so afraid anymore.
The sky isn’t particularly clear tonight. One could have picked a more scenic place to come rest to, one where clouds wouldn’t be covering D’Qar’s two moons like a thin, old veil ripped to shreds.
Poe turns at the unexpected sound of boots ruffling against the grass, a small smile growing over his face when you grunt softly as you sit down next to him.
“You lied when you said I’d know where to find you, because I’ve looked for you everywhere before finally finding you out there” you sigh softly, drawing a laugh out of him, his eyes crinkling softly.
He shrugs, “You still found me, so I technically didn't lie” he says with a smile.
“You've got a point,” you huff out, settling beside him. The air is cool, cooler than it has been those past few days. You can’t help your lips turning into a smile as Poe's face softly glows in the faint light of both moons, his gaze gentle as he looks over at you.
His eyes twinkle with amusement when he talks again, interrupted when you shift to press your lips to his, his words quickly lost on both of you. His voice fades into a small sigh against your mouth as his hand immediately, almost instinctively cups the side of your face. Your hands grip the lapel of his shirt tightly, gently pulling him closer to deepen the kiss; Poe’s chuckle vibrates against your lips as you pull away, a slight flush visible over his cheeks.
“What is this?” he asks amused, the look of surprise genuine over his face. This goes against everything you told him you wanted with him for now.
“This is me being smarter about this, being the bigger person.” you affirm in an attempt to sound confident, but you’re still slightly out of breath, your heart racing.
Poe looks at you with a teasing, feigned impressed expression before he goes in and kisses you back, the press of his lips soft yet firm against yours. 
Everything around you seems to fade away as you make out for a beat, losing yourselves in this, the soft breeze of the evening tickling both of your faces though your face heats up even more when his thumb traces your cheek.
When he finally pulls back, Poe's hand is quick to find your own, his fingers fiddling and lacing with yours, his gaze on you still intense. “So much for going slow, huh?”
You chuckle, “Yeah, fuck that” you reply with a grin, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.
You both fall silent for a while; it is rare for Poe Dameron to not run his mouth for longer than a few minutes, but the back and forth of his thumb over your hand and your head leaning over his shoulder seems to be enough for him at this moment.
You shatter the silence the moment the question crosses your mind. “What would you have done if I actually married him?”
He takes a deep breath, like the weight of the question takes a toll on him.
He smirks, “This would have probably made me join the First Order” he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. You huff out a laugh. 
“Honestly?” he asks, his tone serious now. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t really know. What would have been the best option? The least worst? “I don’t know. But I would have skipped the wedding for sure.” you softly smile at him with a look of compassion, momentarily rendered speechless by his revelation. 
He pinches his lips in a weak, beaten smile as he clearly pictures the scene in his mind again, just the way he did when you announced to him that Kass had proposed before eventually telling him you had refused. “Sorry. it would have hurt my poor loverboy heart way too much” he scoffs light heartedly though it’s barely a joke, just the truth.
“Well, next time I get married you’ll be the first person I invite” you promise with a light nudge at him, your hand reassuringly squeezing his.
“Next time huh?” he retorts with a playful smile, one that you mirror before the gentle push of his lips renders you breathless again. “Not if I invite you first sweetheart,” he jokes with one last kiss, your laugh barely audible.
Poe’s thumb traces circles on the back of your hand when he notices your gaze is there now, a faint smile remaining over your face. “Hey” he calls, urging you to look up at him. “One day at the time, okay?” he cocks his head forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t have to figure everything out right now.”
There’s no rush with him, no doubt, just the certainty that whatever happens, it will seem like the easier thing in the world; 
Because you love him; you are sure of that.
any and every comment is greatly appreciated!!
star wars taglist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly @pigeonmama
also tagging people who seemed interested in this from the post related to this, please ignore me if you actually don't care<3 @lotusbxtch @piptoost @klillaah @lounilu @moonpascal
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elexuscal · 1 year
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The "Top" fics in fandom are not the "Best"
I've seen a couple of posts here in there implying that the ways to find the best fics in fandoms are just to go to ao3, and sort by 'Most Kudoses', 'Most Bookmarks', 'Most Comments', etc. I've also seen some folks say they feel like their fics are failures if they don't make it to the front page(s), or at least near there.
But the simple fact: this is not true.
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Now, I'm not saying that the top-rated fics in a fandom are bad.
Far from it! They're often very popular for a reason. Well written, fun dynamics, cool plots, etc. A lot of my own favourite fics have made it to the first page when you sort by "Most Kudos"-- but then, a lot of mine also haven't.
Why?
Because those selections are inherently biased.
What do I mean by that? Just that there are other factors influencing what stories accumulate the most comments/kudoses/etc in a fandom, meaning none of these serve as a neutral metric of quality.
I'm going to explain some of these biases briefly, just so folks get a sense of what I mean:
Age Bias This, I think, is the easiest to grasp. A fic that is three years old just has had more time to gain views than a fic that's three days old. Also, consider that pretty much any fandom needs time to grow. If you're in the first days/weeks/months of a fandom, there probably just isn't that much content being made. If there's only 10 fics on the archive, then 11th one stands out. It'll get a lot of attention. But if that same fic were to come out a couple years later, when there were 11 fics published in a single day, well, people are more likely to miss it. If you doubt me, take a look at the front page of 'Most Kudos' for a fandom of your choice. You'll probably see a lot of the stories there are on the older side- and this is exactly why.
Multi-Chapter Bias There are a lot of ways people find new fics to read, and one of the most basic is just: look at the front page of the most recent updates. Now, this way of sorting fics is exactly what it sounds like. A list of fics in order of when they were most recently posted/updated. But, obviously, if a fic has multiple chapters, it's going to appear on that front page way more often. A 50 chapter epic has 49 more chances to get seen this way than a one-shot. This issue becomes even more intense when you consider the Most Comments sort option. For a one shot, a person is probably likely to only comment once. Maybe if they really love the story and revisit, they'll leave a second or third. But multi-factor fics? By design, people come back every update. And that means a lot of people leave comments every single time. (Or at the very least, after big plot developments and twists!) This is what leads to long-running multi-chapter epics dominating the 'Most Comments' rankings in most fandoms.
Popular Pairing Bias Again, this is just obvious. Some pairings are more popular than others. A rare-pair fic can be just as soulful, hot, and well-written as a story featuring the fandom's powerhouse fic, but if only 30 people are interested, well... [shrug] Less people will click on it, kudos it, and leave a comment. To a lesser extent, you can expand this to any trope. 'Coffee Shop AUs' just seem to be more popular than, say, '1930s Mobster AUs'. That effects what tags people search, and what fics they find. But shipping is such an important element of many fandom cultures I thought it would be the most illustrative.
Positive Feedback Loop Bias And honestly, this is maybe the real clincher. Because I've established some of the things that can cause a story to start gathering lots of kudos, comments, and bookmarks in a first place. But once that starts, you get a positive feedback loop going. Because what's one of the first things a person does when they're looking for good stories in a fandom? They sort by 'Most Kudos'. And then they select the first story on the list, and they like it. So they leave a comment and kudos and... Yeaaaah.
So... What do we do about it?
Well. Nothing really. This isn't really a problem. It's just something to be aware of.
Any attempt to put metrics on something as subjective as art is going to fall short. So don't go rating the quality of your own stories about how well it performs, and don't go chasing those coveted top spots. You'll have a lot more fun if you just write stuff that you enjoy, make some friends, and recognise a lot of factors influence fanfic statistics beyond just quality.
Searching via most comments/kudoses/bookmarks remains one of the easiest and quickest ways to start diving into a new fandom. It's often the first things I do, and found stories I love that way.
That said: I highly encourage you to search for fics beyond just that method. Here are some of my suggestions if you want to figure out ways to get started:
Search up Fanfic Rec Lists. Lots of people put them on their blogs, and websites like TVTropes even have that as a whole feature
Ask for fic recs! Seriously! Post about it in the fandom's tumblr tag, join Discord communities, etc, and just say, "Hey, I'd love to read a story where... [insert the general themes, characters, or plot points you like". People will be EXCITED to share.
Search by specific tags Like, do you really, really love time loops? Search the 'Time Loop' tag in your favourite fandoms. A lot of specific tropes, AUs, etc. are canonized, so you can find a lot of stuff up your alley that way
Browse the most recently updated fics Yeah, I know, it's old school. But seriously, you can find some awesome stuff there-- including stories from new authors just starting out, who could really use a boost!
And hey... if you find some stories you like... Consider writing some fic recommendation lists of your own. Spread the love!
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realisticfanfictions · 5 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 4.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: Initially going into this, I was planning to have the fishmen come in and have the Mihawk fight, but it was a bit more important to set up some more character dynamics before I moved onto 5k words of action scenes. So here's a nice bit of LORE(tm) and a bit more about how Y/N thinks. Next part I promise is 100% action, and I can't wait to show ya'll what I've come up with for Y/N's weapon! It's so cool.
Word Count is 3,421. Hope you enjoy!
Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback @jvhoons
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"So, you're really going to fight him?"
Zoro, not looking up from cleaning his swords, nodded. "It's my dream." He explained, observing the blades for any damage. After he challenged the swordsman, the next few things happened rather quickly. The scramble to get Luffy as if that'll somehow convince him to stand down, the captain instead supporting his first mate's goal, and Nami storming off upset. It all passed by in a blur, and now you were alone with Zoro in their ship.
You nodded and turned to look out of the porthole, observing the calm seas that rocked the boat. "I guess dreams are worth dying for." You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Sucks you met Mihawk too early."
His jaw tightened, and set down his sword. "If I run now, I'll never become the world's greatest swordsman."
You hummed and watched him through the reflection on the glass. "Honour, huh?" You mused and nibbled on the tip of your thumb. "How ridiculous. You're just like Sanji, uncompromising."
"Don't compare me to that shitbag." He snapped and sheathed his sword, clicking it shut in its scabbard. "Speaking of, why are you with him?"
Confused by his words, you looked over at him. "What do you mean?"
"He cheats on you, doesn't he?" He questioned and turned to face you, leaning against the cabinet. "He seemed pretty friendly with Nami a couple hours ago."
You chuckled. "That's just Sanji. He's obsessed with women. It's more," You thought of the words. "It's like having a dog that you love and care for, and though you go up and pet other dogs, you don't abandon your own dog for some random one on the street."
Zoro's eyebrows raised. "You do realise you just called yourself a bitch, right?"
You rolled your eyes and flipped him off. "Shut up. He's just chivalrous, that's all."
"Well, I'd be watching him if I were you." He walked over, his long strides making it seem effortless to reach you. "Guys like that don't tend to keep only one dog."
You opened your mouth to retort, but shut it and stood chest to chest with him. "Just focus on not dying, alright?" His eyes squinted ever so slightly, and he leaned down close to you, gazing directly into your eyes. "What are you doing?"
He stares for a moment, and then straightens himself back up. "Nothing."
You quirked an eyebrow. "Alright, I'm going home to my boyfriend."
"Wasn't trying to make a move." He retorted and stepped aside, letting you walk past him. "(Y/N)?" You placed a hand on the door frame and turned. "Be careful."
You looked him up and down. "Try not to die."
Mihawk's eyes haunted you like a ghostly presence that you couldn't shake off. It was like you could feel those piercing eyes all over your body, every inch of skin was tainted and you hated it. You always have.
The door to you and Sanji's shared room creaked open, and you popped your head inside. You didn't know what to expect, but Sanji jolting himself upright on the chair that sat in the corner of your room wasn't exactly one of them. The door softly clicked closed behind you, and you slowly walked up to him, his eyes on you the entire time as you sat on his lap. You positioned yourself sideways and leaned your head against his chest, reveling in his warmth when he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss against your scalp. Sanji's thumb rubbed circles in your thigh, more of an anxious gesture than anything, as he pressed many more kisses against your skin. You sighed and relaxed into him. "I may have overreacted." You started, ripping the band-aid off. "And I apologise."
He nodded. "Thank you for that. Sorry for not finding you sooner."
You shook your head against his chest. "I was drinking, you would've killed my buzz." You paused. "But I guess it was ruined anyway."
"Oh, I'm sorry-"
He stopped when you held up a hand. "I didn't mean you, Sanji." You opened your mouth, but couldn't find the words. Or rather, you found them, you just didn't want to share them. "A man came asking after our new chore boy."
You felt Sanji tense under you. "Are you okay?"
Mihawk's eyes restraining came to mind. "I'll be fine," You picked at a loose thread. "But Zoro won't."
Your boyfriend's hand stopped and pulled back to look you in the eye. "Zoro?"
"Luffy's friend, the guy with the swords. The idiot challenged him to a duel."
Sanji's head tilted. "Why?"
You let out a small sigh and untangled yourself from him, walking a couple feet to your dresser and pulling out a change of clothes. "Because they're idiots with a death wish." You said as you peeled off your top with a groan. "Fuck. Thank God I don't have work tomorrow."
He watched you for a moment as you shimmied out of your clothes and slipped into some pajamas. "Sweetheart, I'm not really comfortable with you drinking with pirates. I mean, it's a bit dangerous-"
You scoffed, pulling an oversized shirt over your head. "They're not pirates," You said as you tugged the shirt down, barely bothering to notice it was a gag shirt with an octopus on a bowl of rice. "Hell, they barely qualify as sailors." But when Sanji didn't respond, you paused. "Oh, you mean was I drinking with Zoro." You turned around to face him. He was leaning forwards in his chair, leg bouncing. You sighed and walked over to him. "He was just my drinking partner, and he's most likely going to die tomorrow." You run your hand through his blond locks. "It'll be fine. You don't have to worry."
"I'll have to trust you then." He said with a smile, then laughed when your gentle pat turned into a frantic scratch. "Hey! Not the hair!"
A smirk split across your face. "I don't know, Sanji. You might just have to trust me!"
He chuckled and grabbed your hands, pulling you forward onto him and wrapping you in his arms. "You know what I mean."
"I guess I'll just trust you-"
"Yep!"
"And trust that you're doing a good job! And- Sanji!" You squeaked when your boyfriend ambushed you with a barrage of soft kisses pressed across any bit of skin he could reach. "You tasteless toad! You're two tablespoons of terrible!"
"Two tablespoons of terrible." He repeated in a strange voice and you giggled when he tried to tickle you. "Oh no! The tickling toad has come to torment you!"
You push his hands away and trap his face in your hands. "You twat." You smiled and gave him a lingering kiss.
When you parted, he gave a soft smile. "And you even ended it with a 't', brilliant."
You quirked an eyebrow. "You weirdo."
He mirrored you. "And I somehow love you."
"But weirdly, you love me very weirdly."
He nodded. "Birds of a feather."
"If we're birds, you're a flamingo."
"Why?"
"Because if I wasn't dating you, I'd think you were a bit of a flamingo."
He gasped. "Then you'd be a penguin, because you bring me rocks."
You leaned back and gave him a look. "Because I bring you rocks?"
He nodded. "Yeah, you even put them on me. And you help me get my rocks off."
He laughed as you hit him. "Sanji! That's so bad!"
Your hands were caught and you were pulled into his chest, both of you giggling and stealing kisses from each other while occasionally snuggling impossibly closer. Sure, you might be a bad person - but you liked who you were with Sanji. And that's all you really cared about.
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You lied. That night you couldn't sleep with hundreds of thousands of millions of thoughts racing through your mind. You felt like you were a greyhound chasing down a slightly too-fast rabbit, every time you got close, sleep just slipped through your fingers. Your gaze drifted from the ceiling where you were counting the nails in the boards, and over to your boyfriend. His sleeping face made a million butterflies emerge from their cocoons in your stomach, your heart beating against your rib cage like an angry gorilla. But something about this wasn't right, and you couldn't go to sleep without doing something about it.
Careful to not wake your peaceful boyfriend, you slowly lifted his arm from around your waist and placed it on his pillow, heart aching at the sight of him trying to seek your warmth. Even in sleep he wanted to be close to you. Grabbing your pillow, you gently tucked it under his searching hand and he brought it to his chest with a soft groan, the smell of you satiating him.
You rolled out of bed and tip-toed over the squeaky floorboards, wincing every time the floor made a sound. After looking back each time and taking moments between each footstep, you made it through the door and quickly shut it behind you. The early morning's chilly air struck you, but you ignored the goosebumps rising under your skin and continued on. It felt strange walking without your heels clicking against the floorboards, but you weren't looking to make noise, or look fashionable in this instance.
The Overnights were rooms for guests who've either had too much to drink, or who pay extra to stay overnight to hookup, or just to stay, again, overnight. You passed by the many in-use rooms filled with snoring and other unseemly sounds, rolling your eyes at the disgusting slobs behind the doors. A room stood out amongst the others, however, and you knew it held what you were seeking. The aura that emanated from it was unmistakable.
You reached into your hair and pulled out a bobby pin, sticking it in between your teeth to open it and then jammed it into the lock. All the locks were the same on the Baratie, and you only had to jimmy the locks, moving the pins frantically within, to open it without much effort. The door clicked open and you gently pushed it open.
When you stepped inside, you felt it. The blade at your neck. Without a second thought, you pushed it from your jugular and grabbed the silver candlestick on the hallway table, holding it firmly as the blade was struck against it. It sliced through with ease and a sharp burning went through your cheek, knowing that if you hadn't moved your head, it would've went through your eye. "You're slow." Came the hauntingly beautiful, yet unsettling voice from your nightmares.
You hissed and shoved his sword away from your face. "You haven't seen me in seven years, and the first thing that comes from your mouth is criticism? How shocking."
"Six." He corrected, and the room was suddenly bathed in a low yellow hue. Dracule Mihawk was a terrifying man. His golden, ringed eyes glowed in the dim light and when they looked you over, it felt like he was observing your soul and picking it apart with the grace one would picking the petals off of a flower. Those eyes locked onto yours. "It's been six years."
You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. The room was a similar layout to your own, with the only difference being the minimalist design and abhorrent amount of red wine. You knew the latter didn't come from the room. Rather, they came from his personal stash that would deem any other man an alcoholic. But Mihawk was simply old-fashioned, born in the wrong non-vampiric century if you will.
He sheathed his famed black blade Yoru in one smooth motion and danced past you, sitting gracefully in his armchair and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes drifted over to his hat hung on a hook and reached out to run your fingers against the silky feather. "Don't touch it." The old swordsman warned behind you, picking up his book and flipping over the next page. "I despise disorganisation. It needs to be acceptable for my duel tomorrow. Or rather, in the upcoming moments since you have woken me up at such an ungodly hour."
Despite your reluctance, your arm retracted almost on its own. "You were already awake, asshat." You turned around and crossed your arms. "And it'll be creased anyway, so it doesn't matter if-"
"Not necessarily." His words were as sharp as his gaze. "If we go by that barbaric logic, it doesn't matter if a man is murdered since we all die in one way or another."
You scoffed and returned his look with your own glare. "I'm not too sure, you're more experienced when it comes to murdering men."
Mihawk picked up his expensive crystal wine glass, and took a long, silent sip of his Tarapaca. It was placed back down onto the table with a clink. He leaned back in his chair which squeaked as he did so, and interlocked his fingers. "Why are you here, (Y/N)?"
"I was going to ask you the same question."
His head tilted for a moment, before righting itself. "I'm here for Monkey D. Luffy."
You hadn't realised your shoulders were tensed until they drooped down. "That's it?"
He nodded. "I am only here as an obligation to Garp to collect his grandson."
To your annoyance, your throat tightened. "I thought that was an excuse."
"It wasn't." The man you hated sat in his chair completely unbothered. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before drifting back to his book. He flipped the page. "'But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, by what and in what manner Love conceded that you should know your dubious desires?'"
Pathetically, you felt stinging at the corners of your eyes. "'And she said to me: “There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”'" You breathed in through your nose. "Inferno, by Dante Alighieri."
"From?"
You cleared your throat. "Divine Comedy."
"What year?"
You took in a breath and shook your head. "1321?"
He said nothing and turned the page. You stood silently, wanting to run but having no strength to do so. His gaze finally lifted to meet yours. "Is that all?"
A chill ran over your skin, and you were once again reminded of the kind of man he was. There was a lot you wanted to say to Dracule Mihawk. So much hatred and anguish that you had to endure, all the suffering handed to you by the well-manicured hands of the greatest swordsman in the world. You hated him. "Unless you want to say anything?"
His eyes held yours for a moment. "Goodnight."
"Go fuck yourself." You practically grew fangs and spat venom at him. Spinning on your heel, you kicked the wall where his hat hung and stormed out of the room.
A scream bubbled in your throat. Your nails dug into your palms, and your lips were bloodied from ripping them open. He had no- you couldn't- he was such a-
As you turned a corner, you felt something pinch the base of your skull and you whipped around. Pulling your gun and aiming it, you locked eyes with the other swordsman in your life. Zoro, bathed in moonlight, turned his attention from his swords to you. The rag he was cleaning his blade with stopped and he was focused solely on you. "I think I know who you are."
You scoffed and shoved your gun back in its holster. "Well, apparently most people don't, so I'll take anything at this point." He was quiet, and your lips tightened into a smile. "Want a drink?"
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The door opened with a click and Zoro whistled. "Nice trick."
You put the bobby pin back in your hair with a smile. "Thanks." The Baratie after-hours was a sight to behold, but the bar was even better. You smiled at Zoro and guided him around the front of the bar where the shutters were closed.
"Thought you said it's open all night."
You looked behind you as you bent down to the latch holding the fish's mouth closed. "I said you couldn't get anything on tap around three in the morning," You unhooked the chain and pulled it free from the floor. "Didn't say that the bar was open. Come help me." You shuffled to the side to make room for him, and grabbed onto the shudders. He appeared by your side and hooked his fingers under the shudders next to yours, you both nodded to each other and grunted as you lifted the shudders. You expected it to be heavier, but with Zoro it lifted with surprising ease. The moonlight poured in and illuminated the bar, shining through the empty bottles of booze and creating a kaleidoscope of colours.
The green-haired swordsman chuckled and looked around. "I've never been in a bar after hours." He sat down on a nearby couch normally reserved for V.I.Ps. "It feels naughty."
You shrugged, walking over to the bar and reaching over. "Yeah well, if we're caught I'll probably get fired, so don't fuck around." Your fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle and you hoisted it to eye-level. "You a rum guy?"
He smiled and gave a half-shrug. "I'm a booze guy."
"Good answer." You said and carried over two shot glasses for the both of you. Sitting down, you tugged off the cork with your teeth and poured yourselves shots. You raised your glasses. "To you dying tomorrow."
His eyebrows raised. "To me surviving tomorrow." He corrected and clinked his glass against yours, keeping his eyes on you as you took a shot together. He sighed, flicking his head and nodding. "That's good."
You nodded and sniffed. "It's very good." You filled your glasses again. "Only the best shit for the only guy that knows me." You gulped it down, and didn't wait for him to finish before filling yours back up.
He chuckled. "I'm the one dying tomorrow, and here you are drinking like it's the end of the world."
"Yeah, well," You sniffed and swirled around the liquid in your glass. "My life kind of fucking sucks at the moment. So, I think I deserve to get shit-faced."
Zoro tilted his head and licked his teeth. "I bet you had a miserable childhood."
You laughed and leaned back, tears pricking at yours eyes as you nodded. "Understatement of the century." You said under your breath and looked up at him, forcing a smile. "I grew up on some private land owned by nobles."
He nodded. "You said that."
"Yeah, but what I didn't tell you was I wasn't born there. My Dad, being father of the fucking year, didn't want to care for a baby so he dumped me with some workers. Then, when I truly got attached to my family and finally was accepted as a member of the community, he just came back and picked me up. Like I was some type of broken watch he left to be repaired." You shook your head and reveled in the burn of the rum as it slid down your throat and warmed your stomach. "And ever since then, he's just tormented me. Even when I got away from him, it's like he's always there just watching me - waiting for me to mess up. And you know, all the shit that I did to make him proud of me? Every late night reading libraries' worth of books just in case he quizzed me on it in the morning. Every lesson in combat styles, or how to sense others, whatever the hell that means. Most of the scars I have are from trying myself to him. But never once was I told 'Good job (Y/N)', or that he was proud of me. He never even smiled at me." You finished the shot and placed it down onto the table. "And you know what fucking sucks? After all this time, all the anguish he's put me through? All I want him to look at me and tell me that he loves me."
Zoro looked at his glass and his mouth tightened into a fine line. "I know the feeling." His eyes drifted back to yours. "To shitty parents?" He offered, raising his glass.
You chuckled and shook your head, but poured yourself a glass and raised it. "The shittiest."
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A/N: Um, okay this was pretty heavy and it took me a while to write because I wanted to make it actually matter. I think there'll be a few more parts and then we'll be finished with the Baratie saga! Then, I might take a break and do maybe another series/one-shot while I properly plan the next part. We'll also be naming this series! The poll has concluded and within the next couple of days, we'll be figuring out the name! Comment down if you have any suggestions, or want to join the tag list! <3
P.S: When the Baratie saga is done, I'll release it all as one part so that it'll be easier to re-read. It'll be a bit of its own thing, so stay tuned haha.
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